A Hiccup
5:45pm 8/3/25
I am not lost, only wandering. ‘All who wander are not lost,’ where is this quote from? It feels biblical. [Upon further research it is from J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Fellowship of the Ring, how lovely, maybe I’ll finally read these books. I read The Hobbit as a kid but I couldn’t make it through the fellowship. Seems like a sign, this is next on my reading list.]
So I had a drink. Okay a few. Okay, the honest answer is 9. I had nine drinks. I got some rough family news and it hit me extremely hard. Letting things roll off my back is usually my specialty. I don’t sweat the small stuff and I keep my emotions pretty locked down. Those who know me well may not think this to be true, but those who know me deeply understand that what I share is never all that’s there. A moment of irritation here, a brief existential crisis there; but within minutes I have applied the logic to get to the silver lining. In my heart I know it’s never that deep and that life is beautiful. When truly sad things happen, because of my prevailing positivity, it takes me a few days to really feel that weight.
This time, it hit hard right away. I had one client that day who is one of my favorite people, so it was a welcome distraction to cut their hair for a while and take my time. When I was done I puttered around my studio watering and rearranging my plants. I took a moment to sit down and cry. I walked slowly back to my car, somber behind my sunglasses, lamenting the smoke in the air still lingering from the Canadian wildfires.
The drive home was full of bargaining. I felt I needed a martini [and oysters]. As much as my rational brain argued, tacit permission had already been granted with the word need. When I got home, Bo was laying on my yoga mat on the floor playing guitar. I went to the bedroom to cry some more. Five minutes pass. I go to lay on the floor with him and he scooches to make room for me on the mat. I tell him I need a martini and oysters. Twenty minutes later we are out the door. We’re trying a new place which is unusual for us–I am a critter of habit and going to known joints is comforting to me, but I needed an unfamiliar vibe for some reason still unknown to me.
We often eat on off hours when we go out. I really cherish being one of only a few people in a restaurant. It’s just easier all around. My ice cold dirty gin martini is just perfect and exactly what I want. Sometimes that first drink feels bad–I get flushed and nauseous and don’t feel good until the 2nd or 3rd drink. This was not one of those occasions.
Long story short, martini lunch led to gin dinner. I think I had 5 gin and sodas with cranberry at the next location, bringing my drink total to 7. We had gone to one of my favorite little dives in Northeast. I still felt sad and alone and craved more connection so I called up a couple friends and found a place to go. This was nice. Even still after this I wanted to keep drinking. We got to our neighborhood dive and before even going in, we decided against it. Thank god for this moment of sense. I was done drinking for the night. Not even 10pm and I found myself wasted. I was already mad at myself. Guilty and pissed, not wanting to be drunk anymore, knowing it wasn’t worth it.
My favorite excuse is ‘you’re allowed to have a little fun’. The reality is that it is not actually fun. Sure the first drink is yummy, but then I don’t want to stop, and all of a sudden I’m in a parking lot just for the sake of not drinking alone instead of truly tending to my feelings. The truth is I can have plenty of fun sans alcohol. Someday I will be ready to have just one drink, but 14 days into abstinence is not even kind of close to that time. The funny thing is that when we were walking to the bar after our late lunch, I was thinking about ordering a hop water because I wanted the hydration and it sounded good. But the addiction voice had taken over, so I ordered a drink instead.
My choices did not help me cope, they just numbed the pain temporarily. Crying had actually felt good. I wish I would have finished crying, read my list of reasons I don’t want to drink, worked on some projects, and smoked a little weed at the end of my day.
I’m going back to doing the work. I won’t call this a relapse. A good friend shared their therapist’s advice that this is maybe too harsh of a word. I’m taking the L and moving forward with my sobriety day count intact. As a perfectionist this idea has been torturing me all day, but I didn’t stop putting in the effort, it’s more like I stopped paying attention. I need to keep my guard up and remember that alcohol is not my friend, it is merely a neurotoxin.
As I’ve previously written about, while I’m currently just 2 weeks sober, the exploration into my substance use began about 6 years ago. Through this journey I have seen that the act of drinking is so not what I enjoy. Being home, being productive, being cozy, reading, writing, creating, walking around, observing, learning, tending. These are my joys and alcohol only takes these things away from me, not to mention money and time. I am holding myself accountable while giving myself grace. As cliché as it is, my body is a temple. A very sensitive temple with myriad complicated operations that I do not want to jeopardize. Taking immaculate care of myself is actually my ultimate goal and I have been cherishing all of my accomplishments in this realm as of late.
Grief will undoubtedly come alongside every other feeling that life provides, and now I know how I don’t want to deal with it. Cheers to growth, cheers to learning, cheers to making mistakes again and again, cheers to moving onward and upward into the future with a sense of wonder. Cheers to life and all its spectrums–love & hate, good & evil, miracle & tragedy, abundance & lack, old & young. There is a purpose, I do believe, and our ancestors guide us if we listen closely.
The Thinking Cross
This is It: the subject of focus; This Crosses It: additional influence; As Above: conscious thoughts, what is clear; As Below: unconscious thoughts, what is hidden; As Before: what has recently passed, can be left in the past; So After: near future, the next area of focus
I always ask my maternal ancestors to guide me when I read tarot. This came to me about a year into using the cards as a spiritual tool during a communal reiki session wherein without consulting one another, we all felt deeply connected to this part of our DNA. Occasionally, when the question fits, I will ask my forefathers as well if I feel in need of masculine wisdom, but every single question I ask I pose directly to all of my foremothers including those alive.
Before I sat down to write this, I pulled cards and intended to interpret and journal about them privately before writing about my hiccup for y’all. But sometimes when pen hits paper, the writing takes on a path of its own. My first Rider-Waite-Smith deck tends to be uncannily literal most of the time, and this time was no exception. This spread is my own flavor of a few different spreads combined and resembles the dyadic cross or the first 6 cards of the traditional celtic cross. It goes as follows: (1) This is it, (2) This crosses it, (3) As Above, (4) So Below, (5) As Before, (6) So After. This has been an instrumental spread in my practice and always brings me clarity in a situation. The cards today were a calming surprise. The 9 of pentacles has been my focus lately, coming up nearly every reading and letting me know that my path is providing abundance and that my hard work is worth it. There is a tinge of loneliness to this card, however it is a welcome solitude for me right now. She is crossed with the Queen of Cups, showing me that I am the master of my emotions and that I should continue to expect to feel them deeply and powerfully. This pair is daunting but again, welcome. It is a time for me to continue working and processing and to find respite and peace in this.
My conscious and unconscious feelings (as above, so below) are not entirely unexpected. I feel like a silly girl for making this mistake, dumb as hell for my indiscretion, and like a poser for not resetting my sobriety clock; all represented by the fool reversed. These are things I hate to admit to myself hence the positioning below. The 9 of swords Rx comes up CONSTANTLY in readings in which I question my relationship with alcohol. Like, either 9 or 10 of swords or both come up every single time without fail. The 9Rx is how I acknowledge I feel right now–lethargic but recovering, ashamed but with grace, ready to move forward.
Before + after are a bit more misty which is typical. The front half of the major arcana have been showing up often as of late, indicating a renewal and a beginning, a fresh journey. So funny how this goes, I can’t help but be amazed at how apt the symbolism is. The hierophant is a card I don’t see so much. It’s giving conformity and spiritual egotism. Making the choice to drink to cope is so typical and easy. It was the wrong choice but it was the standard societal formula. I followed the script I’ve always followed. Choosing to not drink, I have learned, is very against the grain which is of course difficult as hell. I don’t want to keep doing what I’ve always done. My future card is 5 of swords reversed. I am the defeated figures in the background of the card, walking away. Accepting the loss and moving on and away from what defeated me.
So, I will not dwell. I will remember who I am, and tomorrow is a new day. Hell, today is a new day! I’ll go back to loving the life that my shadow, my unconscious mind, demands, which is one of growth without alcohol right now. Learning about Jungian analysis lately has taught me that the shadow, the dream world, the unconscious, sometimes holds the answers that you don’t want to hear but you must follow regardless as the conscious mind and the ego fight against it. I will continue to push forward in my work, find fulfillment in my creative expression, and not let this hiccup define me.
I love you and I’ll talk to you later,
<3 Hailey